


Tantibus

by JoAsakura



Category: Saints Row
Genre: M/M, Saints Row IV, Saints Row The Third
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-28
Updated: 2014-07-29
Packaged: 2018-02-10 17:50:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2034384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoAsakura/pseuds/JoAsakura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just another day in paradise</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Initium

Mexico as a series of faded postcards and polaroids, crumpled and forgotten in a dresser drawer. Soft edges and blurry golden light. The smell of the ocean is like another colour and the cool breeze is like a kiss in the heat.

Another perfect morning in paradise.

Adam yawned, stretching like a cat on the old mattress as it sagged under the weight of another. “C’mon, sleepyhead.” Angel’s rough growl curled in his ear like the best kind of tobacco. “It’s time to get up.”

Adam grinned, grabbing the former luchador and dragged him down to join him, the rickety bed complaining almost as loud as it had the night before. “I’m still sore from yesterday. I need you to kiss it and make it better.”

"Only idiots go fishing with hand grenades." Angel bumped his forehead against Adam’s, and the gangster raked his fingers through Angel’s slowly growing tangle of deep brown curls as they kissed, slow and golden as the day.

"I’m true to myself, you have to admit that." Adam purred under him, arching up to meet Angel’s body with his own, closing the small gaps between their flesh. "Come back to bed, love."

"I made you migas for breakfast. Don’t let it get cold." Angel sat back, dragging Adam to sitting.

"Fine, fine." Adam laughed, padding behind Angel to the shack’s rudimentary kitchen, battered icebox wheezing in the corner. "Angel." he sobered, rubbing his scruffy beard against the brown expanse of Angel’s shoulder. "Doesn’t it feel like we’re forgetting something?"

The wrestler turned in Adam’s embrace, pushing back strands of raven-purple behind one golden ear. “You need a haircut and a shave.” He rumbled softly.

Slowly, Adam traced the winged skull etched into the skin of Angel’s chest and shook his head. “no. Killbane.” He said, splaying his hand across it. “Killbane. Why can’t i remember if we got him?”

"Killbane’s dead, Adam. We killed him." Angel’s hands cupped Adam’s sharp jaw. "Now eat your breakfast and we’ll go find some sharks to wrestle."

"Killbane’s dead. And you’re dead." Adam jerked back, dark memories slicing through the golden haze in his brain. Scrambling away he reached blindly for the .45 he kept nearby. "I held you while you died. I saw the light go out of your eyes." He levelled the gun at the man across from him, hands steady even as his voice shook and cracked. "Who the fuck are *you* and where the fuck am I?"

"Adam, settle down." Angel growled and took a step towards him.

"I will not fucking settle down." Adam hissed back squeezing off a round meant to disable the man’s shoulder.

He didn’t expect the flicker and flash as the bullet impacted. But there was no blood, no smell of gunpowder.

Just a deep, oily voice in his brain as Angel looked confused. “You know, I was trying to be nice, Mister President. You fought with such ferocity, I thought perhaps this would mollify you. But I see, like a feral animal, you need stronger methods to be tamed.”

"ZINYAK YOU FUCKSTAIN!" Adam wheeled, as the simulation broke apart around him. "No, No, ANGEL, WAIT!! NO!!!" He reached out, but there was nothing, nothing but static and pain and

He blinked awake, mellow greyscale light filtering in through monochrome curtains.

Cheery music played somewhere and he sat up and yawned, looking for his glasses.

Just another perfect morning in paradise.


	2. Revocari

Location: the former zin mothership. All the purple in the world but the only reason it feels like home is Gat’s hand on his shoulder and the faces of the Saints around him. The ones who he fought with. The ones they were able to go back and save.

"So, you want the good news or the bad news fi…" Kinzie starts.

"Or the possibly in-between news first?" Matt steps over her, barely dodging the swing.

"Let’s go with the in-between news." Adam sits back, power armor hissing softly as he shifts on a throne built for someone two times his size. It’s a deliberate choice that he hasn’t had a new one built. A reminder to the Zin how he tore their former emperor’s head off and made the seat his own.

"Our initial assessments were correct." CID drones, bowling-ball body now tricked out in purple and gold. "the power armour suits are not compatible with inferior human physiology."

"Well, we figured out there was a problem when Gat threw up for two days after attempting to drive one." Adam’s glance travels to the man beside him and Gat just shrugs.

"I’ve had it worse." Gat says simply, and Shaundi rolls her eyes.

"Right, then. So, the good news?" It’s been almost a year since they took over. It’s going to be a lot longer before they work out how to use Zinyak’s time travel tech to rescue a couple of billion people and where they’re going to put them anyways.

But Ben and Pierce had worked overtime to craft a mythology for them, to cement the Ascended Saints, Earth’s spirits of vengeance, as terrifying gods to the former Zin Empire. They wore those masks to perfection in public, but here, as they gathered and laughed, it was just like old times.

"Good news is we’ve repurposed a small part of the simulation in order to create a virtual environment to allow each one of us to remotely operate a suit from the pods." Kinzie says quickly, before Matt or CID can say anything, a sidelong sneer curling her lips.

"Ok that IS good news… right?" Adam scowls as his three tech specialists shift on their feet.

"We’re going to need to borrow Johnny for a bit so we can test it out." Matt finally offers.

"Hold the fuck up." Adam’s gauntleted hand twitches on the throne. "Johnny’s not your.."

Adam’s complaint dies in his throat when Gat leans down, breath warm against his ear. “Settle the fuck down. Prison couldn’t break me. Zinyak couldn’t break me, the simulations couldn’t break me. These three can’t break me. I don’t mind bein’ a lab rat for the geek squad if it means you ain’t the only one defending us. I can’t have that.”

"I need him in one piece." Adam says loudly, watching Gat’s eyes behind his sunglasses. "So make sure this works. And what’s the bad news?"

"We’re going to need those suits up and running. We’ve got some fairly significant breakaways threatening our new empire." Asha says, looking over a screen. "We’re going to need all the firepower we can get. Like those suits."

"Ok, make this happen." Adam pushes up, giving Gat a final, significant look. "Make it happen now."

"Boss? There’s one more thing." Kinzie says softly as they others file out. "Something I found in the data when Matt and I were working on the remote driver sim."

His mouth goes dry as he sees that forgotten mexican beach on the screen. Angel sitting on a jetty, watching the sharks in the distance. “Oh. Kinzie.”

"I didn’t want to delete it. Him." Kinzie says as kindly as she has ever said anything, and he can feel her hand on his arm through the suit’s haptics.

"…Can you make something for me, Kinzie?" Adam asks, swallowing to hide the break in his voice.

~~

__

Mexico as a series of faded postcards and polaroids, crumpled and forgotten in a dresser drawer. Soft edges and blurry golden light. The smell of the ocean is like another colour and the cool breeze is like a kiss in the heat.

Another perfect morning in paradise.

Adam yawned, stretching like a cat on the old mattress as it sagged under the weight of another. “C’mon, sleepyhead.” Angel’s rough growl curled in his ear like the best kind of tobacco. “It’s time to get up.”

Adam grinned, grabbing the former luchador and dragged him down to join him, the rickety bed complaining almost as loud as it had the night before. “I’m still sore from yesterday. I need you to kiss it and make it better.”

“Only idiots go fishing with hand grenades.” Angel bumped his forehead against Adam’s, and the gangster raked his fingers through Angel’s slowly growing tangle of deep brown curls as they kissed, slow and golden as the day.

~~

Adam rubs the bridge of his nose, watching the simulation play out on the screen, “G’bye, love.” A rough whisper as he shuts the monitor off. “Take good care’a me."


End file.
